


Brienne the Brave

by Willowbarb



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, game of thrones
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 18:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18976258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowbarb/pseuds/Willowbarb
Summary: Even the bravest may weep...





	Brienne the Brave

Brienne of Tarth had fought against the hordes of wights brought by the Night King against Winterfell. There had been wave upon wave of attacks, for what seemed like eternity, and she had thought that she would die there, yet in all her life she had never met anyone who had the courage to do what Bran Stark had done. In all of the years to come she would never meet anyone with the courage to do what Bran Stark had done.

It is one thing to fight alongside your comrades, your friends, those whom you love, and those who love you, as Brienne had done, but quite another to sit there in the godswood as bait in a trap whose jaws are more likely to close on you than on your enemy. That required a degree of courage which she had marvelled at, one which she was not sure that she could herself equal, though she hoped she would have tried. 

Theon Greyjoy and his fellow Ironborn had fought nobly, and died nobly, in the godswood but Bran had nothing to defend himself with, and no way to escape from the jaws of the trap, should he have wished to. He did not; instead he had endured that long night until, at the very last moment when all hope had seemed lost, Arya had killed the Night King with the Valyrian steel dagger her brother Bran had given to her, and the stab to the heart which Sandor Clegane had taught her.

It was recognition of that courage which had driven Brienne when she had made the decision to leave the service of Sansa Stark that day in the Dragonpit. Sansa, who had hidden in the crypt below Winterfell with Tyrion whilst Bran played out his deadly role in the godswood, had assured the Council that Bran did not wish to rule Westeros, without even doing him the courtesy of allowing him to speak for himself. 

It seemed to Brienne that it was profoundly dishonourable to demean a man of such courage in such a way; he might be unable to move without his wheelchair, but he had fought to overcome his crippling at the hands of Jaime Lannister, just as Jaime Lannister had fought to overcome the loss of his right hand, his sword hand, defending Brienne from the loathsome creatures who had intended to rape her. 

He had ruefully admitted that day in the courtyard at Winterfell he was no longer the fighter he had been, but anyone who knew sword craft could see the myriad hours he had spent learning to wield his sword with his left hand, and wield it he did in defence of the living. Time and time again he had been there, urging the men on, guiding the inexperienced, using the warrior skills built over so many battles, for so many years - some before she was even out of the schoolroom - never infringing her authority but using all of his hard earned experience as a gift, to her. A gift she had cherished.

Bran’s courage too should be recognised, not ignored and demeaned, and Brienne realised in that moment that it must have been Sansa’s desire for the crown which had caused her to tread the dishonourable path she had taken in breaking the oath she had given to Jon Snow about his parentage. Had Sansa ever truly understood Brienne of Tarth she would have known that she could not stay in the service of one who made a mockery of her given word to her cousin and a mockery of her brother.

Watching them Brienne realised that Sansa was in many ways acute, but she lacked the wisdom of Bran; he had displayed that wisdom when he allowed his sister to take the crown she so desired, but to rule the North only; far, far better to have Littlefinger’s capable pupil tucked thousands of miles away in Winterfell than scheming with Tyrion Lannister in the capital. One can only achieve so much depending on ravens to communicate, particularly when the Three Eyed Raven himself ruled the lands through which the ravens flew.

And as Hand of the King Tyrion was under the eye of the King, which would dampen any ardour he might possess to bring his marriage to Sansa back to life and recreate the Seven Kingdoms for them both to rule. It was either that or execute him; for a supposedly intelligent man he had made a surprisingly large number of grievous mistakes when he had served as Hand to Daenerys Targaryen, to the point where Brienne wondered whether Tyrion had ever wanted to see her rule on the Iron Throne. 

Looking at him now it seemed to her more likely that Tyrion had seen himself ruling through Daenerys, the power behind the figurehead, having taken Westeros by right of conquest by the Dothraki and the Unsullied who adored her as the Queen who loved them. Brienne knew only too well how many men assumed that they were fitted to do everything - beyond what they called women’s work - far better than any woman. She had spent all her life knocking men like that into the dust; doubtless Daenerys had too.

She had come close to protesting outright when Tyrion described Bran as broken: Bran was no such thing. Brienne remembered the old Septon, Meribald, telling her about such men who were truly broken by their lives. She had encountered only too many of them as she had tried to fulfil her quest; to so glibly rank Bran amongst them was an insult, both to Bran, and to those who had been torn apart, broken, by the never-ending wars which had brought ruin upon the Seven Kingdoms. 

She had little doubt that Tyrion Lannister had been trying to seek personal advantage in suggesting that title for the king; who in Westeros wished to be ruled by a broken man? Tyrion Lannister had failed to learn lessons from those who had been seeking war simply to bolster their personal power; Daenerys Targaryen, for all her tragic flaws, had some ideals which went beyond simply taking the Iron Throne back from those who had usurped it. The breaking of the chains which burden slaves may seem a trifling matter to a nobleman who has never worn them, but for the slave it is everything. 

That night Bran had summoned her, and, to her surprise, dismissed everyone else, even including Pod who had appointed himself Bran’s entirely unofficial guard on the long road south from Winterfell. Bran had looked at her searchingly for long moments before he smiled and told her that he was minded to make some changes to the Kingsguard, and in particular to appoint a woman as the Lord Commander. Brienne had stammered and blushed and knelt to him, and was almost out of the room before she heard Bran’s voice, asking her why she thought he had commanded a private audience, if it were only to make a public appointment, and at that Brienne had blushed all the more as she turned back to listen to him. 

“This is, and must remain, private, but you should know; Bronn brought news to Winterfell which you never learned, which Jaime kept from you: Cersei Lannister was with child. In truth there was no realistic hope of saving the babe by saving her, but Jaime was faced with a choice. Old or young, a true knight is sworn to protect those who are weaker than himself, or die in the attempt.”

“He kept it from you because he loved you” said Bran quietly. “Jaime Lannister loved you, and would not, could not, let you die with him attempting the impossible. Tyrion had hatched a plan to get her to exile, where no doubt she would have set about planning yet another war to put herself back on the throne. Tyrion knew that, but he did it anyway; never trust my Hand’s avowals of the virtues of peace and goodwill.” 

“But Jaime knew all of that, and knew that they would die, since Tyrion’s only redeeming feature when it comes to plotting is that he’s not very good at it, and Daenerys Targaryen would have hunted down the woman who had murdered Missandei no matter where they had fled.”

Brienne found herself on her knees again, without knowing it, tears forming and falling as she stared at her King, wondering why he was telling her this, and Bran responded to her unspoken thought. 

“He came North to fight for the living, and fulfilled his vow. He guarded your back, and Pod’s, through that long night, and had thought, once all this was over, to go to Tarth with you to see whether the blue of the waters really does match the sapphire of your eyes. He gave that up to fulfil his knight’s vows, but it would comfort him to know that you are fulfilling yours as his successor.”

Bran smiled once more at Brienne, as she rose to her feet, and added “Just as it comforts me to know that the people he guarded so well in Winterfell will guard me with the same passion in the years to come. I am the Three Eyed Raven, after all.”

And Brienne smiled through her tears.

**Author's Note:**

> I have used Bran to say what Brienne thought to herself in ‘A Feast for Crows’ about the duty of a knight; it seemed fitting. And this is linked to my earlier story ‘Armed and Armoured’, which is seen from Jaime Lannister’s perspective.


End file.
